WHERE GO THE BOATS?

ark brown is the river,

Golden is the sand.
It flows along for ever,

With trees on either hand.

Green leaves a-floating,

Castles of the foam,
Boats of mine a-boating --

Where will all come home?

On goes the river

And out past the mill,
Away down the valley,

Away down the hill.

Away down the river,

A hundred miles or more,
Other little children

Shall bring my boats ashore.